


No Way For You To Fight This

by opheliadrowning



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Artist Grantaire, Carmilla AU, M/M, Slow Burn, Smoking, Vampire Grantaire, but you don't have to know anything about Carmilla to understand it I think, not too much of it though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 11:40:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7975501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opheliadrowning/pseuds/opheliadrowning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <cite>He was interrupted by a dial tone. Campus Security hung up.</cite>
</p><p>
  <cite>Enjolras was close to throwing the receiver against the wall. He let out several frustrated noises. He would solve this, as someone had to. For now though, all he was willing to do was collapse on the bed once again. </cite>
</p><p>
  <cite>Then he heard the door being opened. He had never thought a swivel chair could turn around so quickly. </cite>
</p><p>
  <cite>He was, obviously, expecting Marius. The person unceremoniously walking into the room was not Marius. That still wasn’t the main problem.</cite>
</p><p>A student of a somewhat eccentric university and a passionate blogger forces it upon himself to take up a role of a mystery solver after his friend and roommate gets suddenly - and quite literally - replaced.</p><p>A Carmilla AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Way For You To Fight This

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and thank you for dropping by! This fic started happening because at some point I thought "hey, Enjoltaire dynamics resembles Hollstein SO MUCH, someone should come up with a Carmilla AU". No one did, so I decided I might as well give it a try. 
> 
> Huge thanks to my beta reader, [mariuspondmercy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mariuspondmercy)!
> 
> The fic title comes from a song Love Will Have Its Sacrifices by Soles. 
> 
> Chapter title comes from Hurricane by Panic! at the Disco.

Enjolras caught himself furiously rubbing his temples while frowning slightly at the screen of his laptop. He leaned back in his chair, trying to hold back a yawn. After two hours of unsuccessful attempts at focusing on his currently unnamed project, he decided that he might as well take a break. The oncoming light headache – nothing that couldn’t be cured with coffee and a little fresh air, yet also nothing that could be easily ignored – wouldn’t exactly help his newly begun blog series. He considered visiting a small café across the street and treating himself to some kind of a fancy drink. It was a Friday, after all.  


_Right. Friday._  


_I’m not exactly antisocial_ , he kept insisting, convincing no one but himself. Many people with whom he was nothing but loosely acquainted mocked him jokingly for how rarely he sought human interaction. It wasn’t, however, the whole truth. He might have been an overachieving first year Political Science student, spending his Friday afternoons (as well as all the others, to be perfectly honest) blogging about social issues. That actually might’ve made him an exact opposite of antisocial, depending on how one may interpret the social part. Anyway, he was hopelessly devoted to social justice, he has been told, yes; an overambitious student, undoubtedly; not a partying type – and that was where the teasing, intensified during the weekends, came from. It wasn’t as if he minded company. He was slightly picky about it was all. Intoxicated strangers forcing him onto the dance floor weren’t usually his first choice.  


Enjolras grabbed a scarf from the back of a chair and wrapped it loosely around his neck. He crossed the room and, before he managed to reach for his trenchcoat, someone stormed inside without bothering to knock. He knew only two people who did that.  


This time it turned out to be both of them.  


“Special delivery for our local basic white girl!”, he heard a voice exclaim, just before a wild mass of soft, brown curls and a face lit up by an ecstatic smile appeared in front of him.

“I’ve already told you, Courf”, he begun with a small sigh. “I don’t exactly consider myself one”.  


He couldn’t find it in himself to be irritated, though, as one of his two best friends – a short, energetic Linguistics student named Courfeyrac – kept smiling at him radiantly. Especially when, several seconds later, a takeout paper cup with a hot liquid inside and a brown paper bag was being handed to him by the other boy.  


“Your taste in coffee seems to be telling me otherwise”.  


“What’s that?”, Enjolras asked, inhaling a mixture of sweet smells that suddenly filled the air.  


“A bribe”. Courfeyrac pulled the sleeves of his mustard sweater over his palms. “Marius wanted to ask you something”.  


Enjolras took a sip of his pumpkin spice latte. Although his personal space was being invaded, he didn’t see the point of addressing it. Reason number one – Courf knowing no boundaries. Reason number two – the other boy being his roommate. Personal space was something that Enjolras and Marius shared by living in their tiny dorm room, for better or for worse.  


“There’s a bonfire tonight. By the lake”, he explained, fiddling absentmindedly with a button of his blue shirt. “I know it’s not your kind of thing, but would you mind going anyway?”

He was, too, a Linguistics major, freckled, with copper-colored hair matching the blush that appeared on his face more often than not. Marius was also known to be a rather quiet and reserved person, which made his habit of attending every party on campus quite surprising. It may have had something to do with a certain blonde girl that he had met recently and couldn’t stop talking about ever since, Enjolras thought. That would also explain his desperate need for company – when left alone with his crush, the poor guy might become too flustered to function properly. 

Marius pointed at the paper bag, as if reminding him of his favor. 

“It’s lemon meringue”.

Enjolras let out a sigh and ran a hand through his golden curls.

“C’mon, Enj”. Courfeyrac poked him in the stomach. “I’d go, but Ferre and I already have different plans. I told him you would come”.  


“Oh, of course you did”. The blond rolled his eyes. He didn’t feel as if he had any choice at this point.  


“It won’t harm you, you know”. This time Courf pinched his cheek. Enjolras slapped his hand away, but couldn’t help a small smile. “To live a little outside this cave of yours”.  


He gestured around the room. It was small and therefore a bit cluttered, with shoes laying around and clothes folded carelessly on chairs and desks. Enjolras has always been trying to keep it tidy, but due to his constant preoccupation with schoolwork or reading about recent events, or his little political blog, or anything else, really – he kept failing. Over his bed, there was a big Karl Marx poster his friends made for him on his 18th birthday.  


“Excuse you”. He deadpanned. “You love my cave. In fact, you tend to occupy it every minute you don’t spend glued to Ferre or hanging out with, like, half of the campus”.  


He wasn’t going to refuse Marius this little favor. They’ve become quite good friends over their several weeks of sharing a dorm. His only valid objection was the fact that cutting down on partying would be a true blessing for Pontmercy’s academic career – he was an incredibly bright and passionate linguist and the constant distraction was rather unnecessary. He decided to mention it some other time, though.  


“Alright”. Courf, as if he had an ability to read Enjolras’ mind, clapped his hands, elated. “Have fun, gentlemen, don’t do anything uncle Courfeyrac wouldn’t do and… Marius, my dear. My sweet summer child. Please, make our hot piece of ass wear something more appropriate”. He threw a brief glance at navy sweatpants and loose red pullover that the blond was wearing, along with a fake Burberry scarf he hadn’t taken off yet. “Feuilly’s probably gonna be there. You know, the TA”. He smirked, then gave them both quick kisses on the cheek and left the room.  


Enjolras felt the corners of his lips rising slightly at that piece of information, forming a keen smile.  


***  


Beams of soft, early morning sun were pouring into the room through the thick curtains. As they reached blond student’s face, he lifted his eyelids, rubbed his eyes and proceeded to stumble out of bed. The laptop on a desk was humming quietly, not having been turned off the day before. Fairly conscious, considering it was a Saturday morning, Enjolras was tempted to take a quick look at his blog before indulging in his usual early dose of caffeine. The newest post appeared in front of his eyes, just as he left it in the evening, unfinished. Having saved the changes, the student stretched lazily. It was nice - feeling the soft cotton material of his pajama shirt tickle his stomach, watching the sunlight illuminate the dorm, not being bothered by anyone, with nothing but the sounds of his computer interrupting the delightful silence. That was exactly what Enjolras needed, slightly overstimulated after the night.  


He reached for his phone, meaning to ask Combeferre and Courfeyrac if they wanted to have lunch together. Until then he could do some reading, or maybe catch up on How To Get Away With Murder, he wasn’t sure. Updating the blog could wait, Enjolras decided. It was by no means urgent. Still, he had to work a bit on the website, as it had started to gain popularity lately. In fact, he was considering having it translated to several European languages. Not the whole blog, probably, he should start with his latest series of articles dealing with the subject of little injustices that students of Silas University may encounter. He was aiming at making students – not just Styrian students, but students all over the continent, the world, even – more aware of their rights, especially the non-privileged ones. Yes, translations were quite necessary and he already had an idea who he would ask for help.  


His friend seemed to be still sleeping.  


“Marius!”  


Enjolras kept his voice low, not wanting to wake the boy too abruptly. There was no reaction. He turned around in his swivel chair and, after a moment of hesitation, pulled the cover off his roommate’s bed.

He blinked several times, unable to make sense of what he was seeing. Or not seeing, for that matter. 

There were several books, pillows and pieces of garment stacked under the blankets and no sign of Marius whatsoever. The student didn’t expect his friend to be capable of making pranks so immature and pointless; it was just as if Marius had been replaced by Courfeyrac. Or one of the Fraternity guys. Enjolras sighed and stood up, wondering if it was already that stage of friendship in which he could get away with stealing the redhead’s bagels.

Eventually, he settled for coffee. 

Still, even if he hadn’t, that would have changed as soon as he nearly stepped into a sticky substance on the floor next to the abandoned bed. Whatever it was, it definitely had the capability of depriving anyone of their appetite, even when stolen bagels were concerned. Enjolras made a mental note to show it to Combeferre. 

Moreover, there was a piece of paper glued to it that he couldn’t resist picking up.  


Dear Student,  
Your roommate no longer attends Silas University. He/she:  
a) Lost his/her scholarship and decided to go home  
b) Has elected to attend another school due to your extreme incompatibility  
c) Experienced a psychological event that made him/her unfit for student life  
d) Cited personal reasons and, really, why does anybody do anything?  
Exit procedures were commenced; so action on your part is required.  


He shook his head. He wanted to believe, really badly, that it was just an extension of what he supposed was a joke, but at the same time he was aware that nobody would go so far as to leave an official-looking note in their dorm room. Enjolras briefly scanned it again.  


Marius was a very private person, that was true. He might have not been incredibly vocal about his personal life. Yet Enjolras was his roommate, he surely would have noticed if something was wrong to the point in which Pontmercy would be forced to leave the university, right? And even if he wouldn’t, Courfeyrac certainly would. He was much better at reading people and spent a significant amount of time around Marius. All of this made the last option hardly convincing. He didn’t even want to think about what the “psychological event” would be. As much as he knew very well how unfit Silas University was for neurodivergent students, there was only a slight probability of something affecting the boy’s mental health during the bonfire.  


Enjolras was fully aware that he wasn’t the easiest person to handle, as much as he was trying to change it. Despite that fact, Marius never complained; neither about his smoking habits that Enjolras was making effort to quit, nor about his crazy sleeping pattern, or rather lack thereof. Not even about differences in their political views. In his opinion, they got on surprisingly well. Yeah, the second option was probably out of question as well.  


The first one, on the other hand…  


He knew Marius had had some kind of a falling out with his grandfather, who was his only source of money at the time and, although the elderly man kept sending his grandson cash, the boy refused to accept it due to his pride. As much as Enjolras admired his strong will, he was slightly concerned for Pontmercy’s financial security. His scholarship and little amounts of money he managed to earn by doing translations were barely enough for him to scrape by. And if, for some unknown reason, he had lost the former…  


Indignant almost to the point of trembling, Enjolras was at a loss of words. Financial support for students in Styria, compared to the constant rise in university fees, was almost nonexistent, that was no news. But when had it reached the point of students getting expelled and forced to leave the school in the middle of a night due to financial struggles? Enjolras didn’t know. He couldn’t quite believe there was nothing more to it than the loss of scholarship, though that in itself was enough to drive him off the edge.  


He found himself in desperate need of a smoke, yet he managed to ignore the urge; he had a more important matter to attend to.  


The student took a very deep breath; he probably shouldn’t be acting with too much a haste, he decided. That tended to happen when he got so worked up about something, which was… honestly, very often. First, he would text Marius; then, he’ll think of something.  


10:47 a.m.  
Hi, Marius. I haven’t found you in your bed this morning. Where are you? I hope you’re alright.  


***  


12:51 p.m.  
Marius, I’m getting a bit worried here. Call me, please.  


He stayed at someone else’s place, Enjolras thought. The blond girl’s, possibly.  
He didn’t manage to convince himself. Not even a little.  


What other explanation could there be? Well, surely a lot. Silas University was nothing if not an odd place, but students vanishing in the middle of the night without taking any of their things with them were a whole new level of odd and, more importantly, a whole new level of alarming.  


Five minutes later he was knocking on a door at the opposite end of the corridor. There was a sound of heavy footsteps and, after a short while, the door opened to reveal a bald, dark-skinned boy. He smiled brightly at him.  


“Hi! You’re Enjolras, right?”, he inquired.  


“Yes. Hello. I hope I haven’t interrupted you, but it’s sort of an emergency-”, he stopped, seeing the startled look on the other boy’s face. “Can we talk?”  


“Yeah, sure”. He stepped aside and let Enjolras into the room. “I’m Bossuet, this is Joly”. A petite guy with a long fringe in a color of dark blond waved at him and smiled softly. He was lying on his bed with a laptop. There was a cane by his bedside table. The curly-haired student knew them, though he had hardly talked to them before. They were both members of The ABC Fraternity, a society he mostly associated with trademark drinking games and other extra attractions they provided other students on most Friday nights.  


“Hello there! We’ve seen you at the party yesterday!”, Joly grinned.  


“Yeah, about that…”  


There was a pot half-filled with a herbal tea on a table by the door. Bossuet poured some of it into a cup and handed it to Enjolras.  


“You look nervous. Is something wrong?” His expression was slowly turning into a frown.  


“It’s about my roommate, Marius Pontmercy. He’s missing. I haven’t seen him since yesterday’s bonfire, I’m actually wondering if something wrong happened to him there”. He shivered at the thought, then took a sip of his tea in an attempt to calm himself down. He didn’t plan to act so dramatic in front of guys he barely knew. They already seemed worried; Joly lifted himself clumsily, sat on the edge of his bed and patted the space next to him. Once Enjolras sat down, he threw a blanket over his shoulders.  


“Oh, man. That… that’s definitely not good. He’s the one with freckles, right?” Bossuet was helplessly rubbing the back of his neck. Enjolras nodded.  


“He hasn’t responded to any of my texts.”  


“We’ve seen him”, Joly informed. “When we were talking to the girl working in that café across the street. He was dancing, I think? I didn’t really pay much attention”. He lowered his head, looking genuinely apologetic. “Sorry”.  


“It’s okay”, Enjolras mumbled. Deep down he knew there was only one person to blame, that person being himself. He decided to push that feeling of guilt away for a while. It was inevitably going to come back anyway.  


“Then we joined Most Likely To, but he wasn’t there, unless I haven’t noticed”. Bossuet shook his head. “You should ask Jehan, they probably didn’t go home until after the sunrise. If anything happened, they might have seen it. You know Jehan, right?”

Less than an hour later he stumbled into his room and threw himself on the bed, burying his face in the pillow. 

Obviously, most people had seen Marius at some point. Except none of their testimonies were exactly helpful. Jehan Prouvaire, a resident poet, Comparative Literature major and floral patterns aficionado, hadn’t really noticed much. It wasn’t too surprising, considering the cloud of smoke they have been covering themself with throughout the night, though they claimed they could recall offering a joint to someone ginger. “His hair looked so soft and, if I remember properly, he was wearing something blue. It suited him”. Bahorel, the leader of The ABC Fraternity, a bearded guy who seemingly spent excessive amounts of time working out, admitted not remembering many details from the bonfire in general. “That’s what it’s always like when I meet the bros after the summer. Sorry, dude”, he said, then patted him on the shoulder with a bit too much strength. Musichetta, the barista mentioned by Joly, had apparently headed home shortly before midnight due to having to work a shift the next day, so she couldn’t provide him with any more information than the Fraternity guys. “Oh, by the way, if you happen to stumble upon those two anytime soon, tell them they should drop by sometime”, she added with a wink. 

His determination was the only thing keeping him from panicking. Enjolras rolled off the bed, grabbed his phone from the desk and dialed the number of Campus Security. 

“You have reached Silas Campus Security. To report a missing person, please press 1. For an escaped entity or poltergeist activity, please-“

He quickly pressed the number and, without waiting for any indication that anybody at the other end of the line was listening, he started talking.

“Hi, this is Enjolras from the room 238. My roommate, Marius Pontmercy, went missing the previous night. He was last seen at the bonfire, then I wanted to check on him around 10 a.m., but when I-“  


“There is no need to be alarmed, Sir. Is there a possibility of the roommate having decided to leave the University or having been expelled?”  


“No”. He gritted his teeth in an attempt to refrain from shouting. “No such thing has happened, Marius-“  


“Have you made sure that there was no official note indicating that your roommate-“  


“Look, this is nothing more than just another example of how the treatment that less fortunate individuals get from the University, particularly those suffering from financial hardship, because if this is the case, then-“

He wanted to stay reasonably calm, he really did, yet if there was anything he kept miserably failing at, this was definitely it.

“Does it mean you have not received a letter saying that your roommate no longer attends the University?”  


“No, what I mean is, there was a note, but it is wrong!” He put all the possible emphasis on the last word. Also, at this point, he was practically screaming. “There’s no way Marius decided to drop out at 2 a.m. on a Friday night. With none of his stuff, without saying anything to anybody! Such things don’t just happen, they…” His hands were shaking, but he ignored it, focusing on taking deep breaths instead. “What I’m trying to say is that someone needs to contact the dean of students, make it clear that there is no reason whatsoever for Marius vanishing just like that, that it can’t be ignored like it has been so far, maybe the police needs to get involved, because if the University is unwilling to handle a missing student, then I sure as hell will-“

He was interrupted by a dial tone. Campus Security hung up.

Enjolras was close to throwing the receiver against the wall. He let out several frustrated noises. He would solve this, as someone had to. For now though, all he was willing to do was collapse on the bed once again. 

Then he heard the door being opened. He had never thought a swivel chair could turn around so quickly. 

He was, obviously, expecting Marius. The person unceremoniously walking into the room was not Marius. That still wasn’t the main problem.

A scent of cologne mixed with a faint smell of something alcoholic lingered in the air for a second. Enjolras had never seen the guy who just appeared in his room. 

“Hi”, the stranger greeted Enjolras, sliding a sports bag off his arm and throwing it on the ground next to Marius’ bed. His voice was unexpectedly deep and soft, contrasting with his overall appearance – a significant stubble and a wild mass of dark curls, along with ripped black jeans and a leather jacket made him look either nonchalant or scruffy, Enjolras couldn’t decide. Both, maybe.  


“Who the hell are you?” The blond gripped the armrests of his chair tightly. He glared at the intruder, who proceeded to place an easel – why would he bring that? Why is he here? – against the wall.

The stranger turned to him and shoot him a grin. It seemed mocking and, for some reason, a little bit dangerous. 

“Grantaire. I’m your new roommate, angel”.

**Author's Note:**

> The content of the note Enjolras finds, as well as what Campus Security answering machine says is a part of Carmilla miniseries script. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
